


Howling Ghosts Reappear

by Namacub95



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Cullen Rutherford has PTSD - Post-Tramatic Stress Disorder, F/M, Flashbacks, Healing, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Nightmares, Past Relationship(s), Psychological Torture, Traumatized Cullen, i love torturing characters, i'm a bad person
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-24
Updated: 2016-07-24
Packaged: 2018-07-24 11:53:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,417
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7507264
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Namacub95/pseuds/Namacub95
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The past still haunts Cullen wherever he goes. He can't run away any more, no matter how hard he tries.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Howling Ghosts Reappear

“Cullen! Cullen, please!”

Her hand was outstretched, straining to reach his own. Desperately he tried to reach her, straining with all his might just to brush the tips of his fingers against her own. Caitlyn’s brown eyes, usually so filled with mirth and kindness, how were filled with terror as streamed tears down her cheeks. The demons were pulling her back by her legs and no matter how furiously she kicked, screamed for him, they refused to release her. Still, she attempted to claw her way to him, bloodying her fingers against the rough stone as she tried to get to him.

“It was Uldred! It was him! I didn’t have anything to do with this, I swear! I swear!” she pleaded, had she thought he and the other Templars had come to put them all to death? They had come to fight the demons, to kill the maleficar responsible but never in his wildest dreams did Cullen believe that Caitlyn would have summoned the demons here…even without her terrified pleading.

The demon on top of him kept him pinned, unable to reach Caitlyn and save her from her gruesome fate and unable to reach his sword lying just out of reach. There was no way for Cullen to do anything except watch as the one mage he’d come to admire, respect…even love was dragged into the shadows. A barrier sprung to life around him and the demon who’d been holding him disappeared after its accomplices.

Then it felt like the real torture began.

Cullen could still hear Caitlyn’s screaming. No matter how hard he tried to cover his ears to block it out, he could still hear her screams and begging and the demons did Maker knew what to her. He didn’t want to imagine but the noises, dear Maker, the noises left little to the imagination. Cullen felt bile rise in his throat, threatening to choke him as his mind conjured up the hellish images of demons touching Caitlyn like he had wanted to…soiling her with their filth…no, Cullen tried to block the thoughts out.

“CULLEN!”

Eventually the screaming stopped. Eventually. Instead he was left alone in deafening silence. He didn’t know how long he had been trapped there, how long he’d been muttering the Chant to himself…how long it was before he started seeing the twisted visions of his comrades and Caitlyn calling to him. It would be so easy to give in. So, so easy. Just for a second. But he wouldn’t, he told himself, he would be strong. He would resist.

Still, it got worse. Soon it was just him and the spectre of Caitlyn. She was smiling at him, reaching up to play with his curls like she had done…reaching down towards his belt and pressing herself against him. Still, Cullen pressed his eyes shut and continued his chanting, hoping maybe the words would ward away the demons playing tricks with his mind.

 _“Why didn’t you save me?”_ Her voice whispered, directly into his ear.

Cullen bolted upright, the yell dying in his throat in the realisation that it had only been a dream. Only a nightmare. The blanket was clutched tightly in his fists as he willed his breathing to slow. His hand came up to brush his sweat-drenched curls from his forehead. It was only a dream. Only a nightmare made from the fragments of his worst memories. He needed lyrium. The nightmares were easier to deal with if he had lyrium coursing through his veins, it made it easier to think…to know what was real from what was conjured by his mind.

But there was no lyrium, Cassandra had seen to that. She made sure his office and chambers in Skyhold were completely free from any traces of lyrium. In theory, he could just walk to the stores and grab a bottle from the supplies that the mages kept but he knew that Cassandra would find out, somehow. Besides, he’d come so far…a nightmare couldn’t weaken his resolve now even if it had felt so real.

Caitlyn….

Cullen hadn’t thought about her in years…he had tried his best to forget her in vain but there was something about Caitlyn Amell that he could never shake. He had loved her, he realised it far too late. He’d fallen for the sweet mage girl he’d constantly talked to in the library of Kinloch Hold. He knew that even before everything was torn apart that it would have been pointless anyways…she was a mage and he was a Templar. They were never to be. They should have never been. He’d been such a damned fool…but she had loved him and he had deluded himself into believing that maybe they could have been happy. 

Unbidden, the memories flooded into his brain. He buried his head in his hands, trying to will them back but they came nonetheless. His mind being drawn back to her again and again despite him wishing he could just forget.

_“We shouldn’t…” she whispered, her eyes betrayed her though and lingered on his lips for a second before darting up to his eyes “Cullen, if someone sees— “_

_“They won’t.” he promised her. As if to prove his point, he pressed her closer into the bookshelf so that no one would be able to see her at all. Caitlyn rested her hands on his chest plate as if to shove him back, he wouldn’t have blamed her if she had, but she never did. For a second, Cullen was scared that she would reject him…he knew she could but he hoped…_

_“You’re a Templar!” she continued to argue although even she sounded defeated, she focused her gaze on her feet, and her voice was barely about a whisper “And I’m a mage. We can’t!”_

_He didn’t care. In the back of his mind he knew she was right but at that moment he couldn’t care less. Instead, he silenced any more protests she could have uttered by pressing his lips to her’s. His mouth was hot and hungry and despite her protests she stiffened only for a second before she gave in, wrapping her arms round his neck and pulling him deeper. The breathy noises she made only spurred him on, pushing his tongue to explore her mouth._

_The bang of a door caused them to split apart after what felt like only a second. Cullen shifted awkwardly, an uncomfortable tightness in his trousers, and Caitlyn’s skin was flushed. He wanted to say something but she beat him to it._

_“I…I have to go.”_

_And with that she was disappearing down the hallways to the apprentice quarters leaving him standing alone._

A knock on the door brought his thoughts back to the present. 

Unconsciously he reached for his sword, balanced against the small table near his bed, and got to his feet. Perhaps it was simply a messenger or one of his men with a report. He had sent out missions on the Inquisitor’s (Megharan, he mentally corrected himself) orders...or maybe one of the mages she had brought with them had finally gone rogue. He had to be prepared for anything. If anything went wrong, then it was up to him and his soldiers to shoulder the immediate danger. He had to be out leading, fighting and protecting as many as he could in an emergency. Haven had proven how being on a constant alert could have helped them.

“Who’s there?” it was less a question and more of a command. Cullen was not in the mood for trivialities…not tonight.

“It’s me, Cullen…can you open the door?”

His sword lowered, although he didn’t move. Her voice was the last he expected to be on the other side of the door but yet here she was. Why Megharan was up at this hour of the night and looking for him he had no idea but she was the Inquisitor and he was her commander. Shaking, he undid the latch barring the door and opened it slowly. It hadn’t been a trick. Megharan Lavellan was standing on the other side of his door. She had a tray in her hands with two drinks on it which smelt odd to him and seemed to be steaming. An oddity even for this night.

“May I come in?” she asked, offering him a warm smile.

He stood aside to let her enter and she gave him a gentle smile as she moved past him. He watched her as she placed the tray on the table beside his bed and sat down on the soft mattress. 

"Is something the matter? I can be ready for the War Table in a moment, Inquisitor." he told her, moving quickly to grab his clothes so he was not in his undergarments. He wondered if she had already collected Josephine and Leliana and simply awaited him.

"I told you, call me Megharan." Her tone was a gentle admonishment without any anger but Cullen felt his cheeks redden all the same "And no, I wanted to see you. We'll go to the War Table in the morning. Sit with me?"

It was a request and not an order, Megharan had always seemed uncomfortable with ordering her inner circle around. It felt odd to him that she didn't especially as she was his superior. After a lifetime of taking orders, it seemed strange to him to be asked. So, with a shirt over his head, he sat beside her on his bed and wondered even more why she had come if not because she needed him for something.

"Here." She handed him one of the cups. The heat of the liquid inside seemed through the wood and into his hand. The odd steel made his nose wrinkle slightly and she must've seen because she began to explain "It's a herbal tea. Special Dalish recipe. You'll feel better, I promise."

_Feel better?_

Now Cullen was confused and worried. What could Megharan mean by that? He had told her of his problems with lyrium withdrawal but that had been weeks ago...why now? Had she sensed somehow that his dreams had been filled with horrors? He wouldn't be surprised if Solas had been flittering about in the Fade and found him in his nightmares then told Megharan. That thought was an uneasy one at best...there was something about that bald elven apostate that he distrusted.

Still, he wasn't one to be rude and so took a cautious sip of the strange tea Megharan had brought him. The flavour was odd but not unpleasant, minty and soothing. He took a few more sips and out of the corner of his eye he could see Megharan doing the same with her own cup. Slowly, he felt himself relaxing as the heat spread from his belly outwards. Megharan had been right in that regards, he did feel somewhat better.

"This always helped me after I'd had a nightmare." Megharan mused, smiling fondly down at her cup "The Keeper would make it for us and we'd sit and talk until the dawn. I miss her so much..."

"Nightmare?" Cullen asked, trying not to let himself sound as confused as he was. How had she known?

Finally she looked up at him, her grey eyes meeting his own. Despite his head being filled with the thoughts of another woman that night, Cullen couldn'thelp but marvel at how beautiful Megharan was. Where Caitlyn had been tanned with short dark hair and warm brown eyes, Megharan was fair, freckled with golden hair that tumbled in soft curls over her shoulders and large grey eyes. He wondered how they would've liked each other. They seemed so different and yet they were both warm and kind. Maybe this was the Maker giving him a second chance.

"I heard you shouting down in the yard." She admitted, her smile fading as she said it "You sounded like someone was up here torturing you. I...I thought that maybe you'd like some company. Maybe you'd want to talk about it?"

She sounded unsure of herself, as if she was ready to go running out the door again. Cullen didn't know how to respond to that...she'd come out of concern for him. He felt flattered and awed that she would be concerned enough to even come but when he went to speak all he could find himself saying was:

"Why we're you in the yard so late?"

He grimaced to himself, he had been wondering that but he hadn't mean to say it. It was probably not the most appropriate thing to ask when Megharan had come up to him, bringing something in an attempt to soothe him and sat talking with him. Perhaps he should have thanked her instead or said something other than that but she cut him off when he went to speak again.

"I...couldn't sleep." Unconsciously she clenched her left hand and briefly Cullen thought he saw it glow green. Oh. He understood now. He knew that her Mark still pained her and it must have flared up again. 

He reached over,taking her hand in his. Maybe he could do something for her in return, he thought it was only fair. 

"I'm sorry about Caitlyn." She murmured "You must've cared about her. You kept yelling that name over and over."

"She's been dead a long time now." Cullen replied, running his thumb in slow circles over the back of her hand. He had never talked to anyone about Caitlyn. Never in Kinloch and certainly never in Kirkwall lest he be branded a traitor to the order. Even now that he'd left the Templars it just felt like something he should've kept to himself now more out of shame than fear for himself "I loved her once and I couldn't save her. I thought that if I tried to hate mages then it would hurt less but it never went away."

"It wasn't your fault. You tried to save her, I know you did. That's who you are Cullen. You can't save everyone...no matter how much you want to or how hard you try." It was a painful truth, Cullen knew, but that didn't mean he enjoyed hearing it any more. Megharan leant her head against his shoulder, her eyes down on their interwoven hands "Wherever she is...I'm sure that she knows that."

"I hope so." He murmured to himself.


End file.
